Badaboom
by Zenith Aquilla
Summary: The Joker is always in the citizens of Gotham's peripheral vision, part of each life though he has made a personal appearance in very few. The problem however, is that once he makes his appearance, he tends to stay till the end. For these select few, the end is much closer than they could have ever anticipated. Enter Ava Scott. The Joker has entered her life, and her days numbered.
1. Chapter 1

_BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! _A nearby horn wailed, and just like clockwork, Mrs. Tuck's middle finger flew out the window at lightning speed. It didn't even faze me anymore. I knew that every day some kid fresh out of driver's ED would piss her off, and everyday she'd reward the will the old one finger salute. Just like clockwork.

"You just wait ladies," Mrs. Tuck turned to address her daughter and I, bright pink sunglasses slipping down her bleach blonde ponytail, "I found these fabulous little chicken wing things at the grocery store. They come with garlic parmesan sauce- to die for."

"Mrs. Tuck," I grinned, "I'm a vegetarian."

"Just testing you," she snickered, pointing at me teasingly. Emily Tuck chuckled beside me, used to our exchange by now. After four years, we all were.

"Ms. Emily Tuck, buckle your seatbelt!" Mrs. Tuck frowned at her daughter accusingly.

"Mom, you're not even wearing one!" Emily complained.

"You're right, I'm a horrible example. Follow Ava's instead," she nodded at me, "At Gotham rush hour you'd be insane not to-"

"MOM THE ROAD!" Emily shrieked, her terrified gaze glued to the window shield.

We all turned just in time to see the side of an enormous white truck. The window shield shattered and everything went black.

I blinked rapidly, wrenching myself from the destroyed leather seat.

"…Emily…" I moaned, turning my head to see my friend. I hissed at the unexpected flash of pain that accompanied using my neck. Shifting my shoulders, I strained to look at her.

"Omigod," I breathed. Her skull had caved in, completely shattered. Blood stained the window, the seat, everything, "Emily…"

A trickle of blood dripped from her nose, as if she was answering to her name.

Suddenly the door was wrenched open, and someone threw Mrs. Tuck out of the car. Her body flopped across the ground like a ragdoll, and then didn't move. Definitely not the paramedics.

I went rigid, slumping further down into the seat.

"Are you all dead?" the man asked nobody in particular, not bothering to turn around.

"Yes," I squeaked, not sure what to do.

He rotated slightly, pulling a Glock 17 from his coat pocket. I hit the ground, waiting as the bullets rang against the upholstery.

"How about now?" he revved the engine, stomping on the accelerator. I was silent this time, but obviously not silent enough, "Fine, be that way," he pouted, weaving through traffic.

A steady purr echoed behind us, tempting me to peek through the Mazda RX-8's tinted window.

The Batmobile, easily recognized by its infinite fame of GNN (Gotham Network News), trailed steadily behind us. I've barely spent a night _not _watching it slide through traffic, bombarding mob bosses and drug dealers with deafening rounds of gunfire.

"_I've got a hoooooostage_!" The Joker sang, "Well, two. But that one's kind of dead… maybe one and a half?"

That's who he was. It was the Joker. His name had always been tossed around- jokes, horror stories, but it was always someone else. It was always someone else.

I remember the one time I had seen his face. The one night my mother had left the news on.

"…_Police released video footage found concealed on the body. Sensitive viewers be aware: it is disturbing."_

My mom had been curled up on the couch, cocooned in a huge throw. She hadn't heard me step in. She didn't know I was there.

"_Tell them your name_," The Joker demanded, the video trained on a bloodied man in a makeshift Batman costume.

"_Brian Douglas_," his voice was weak and strained.

"_Are you the real Batman_?" his tone was mocking.

"_N-no_."

"_No?" he cackled, "Then why do you dress up like him_?" he pulled Brian's mask off, shaking it for everyone to see.

"_He's a symbol…_" Brian murmured, "_That we don't have to be afraid of scum like you…_"

"_But you do Brian_," the Joker grinned, "_You really do. You think the Batman's helped Gotham_?"

Brian nodded uncertainly.

"_Look at me_," he demanded, "_LOOK AT ME_!"

The camera swung to face the Joker, donning his signature white chalk makeup, "_This is how crazy Batman's made Gotham. You want order in Gotham? Batman has to go. So…" he leaned in, "Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in. Every day he doesn't… people will die. Starting tonight. I'm a man of my word._"

At that point the video started fading to static, and I had yelped at the sudden sound. Mom had been angry, but too upset to work up a decent rage. She had sent me too bed and we'd both tried to forget. Since the fear gas incident we'd been grateful for all of Batman's help, he'd personally saved my father's life. We knew he'd get bad press for the Joker thing but were willing to believe in him the way he believed in Gotham.

_People will die._

Shit.

I didn't fear death, though it wasn't preferable, but I had an extremely low pain tolerance. Unfortunately the two were never far from each other.

The Batmobile disappeared from view, losing me my only point of interest. My fifteen year old mind demanded constant entertainment, so I focused back on the Joker.

He was enjoying himself thoroughly, an enormous smile plastered across his face. And it wasn't just the scars.

Suddenly the Batmobile skidded in front of us, appearing out of a side street. If we were to collide- well- it'd be pretty easy to guess which car would come out on top. The Batmobile was built like a tank.

The Joker slammed the break down, hopping out of the car. I was completely ready to wait it out and head for the hills, but the Joker had other plans. Yanking me out of the vehicle he pressed me to his purple suited breast. He advanced towards the Batmobile, pressing a knife to my throat.

"Come out come out where ever you are," he sang quietly.

With a hiss the Batmobile's hood lifted, allowing the infamous Batman to climb out. He steadily moved forward, hesitant to do anything that would endanger me.

My chest began to heave as my breathing picked up. Reality started to set in as the cold metal stung against my jawline. Night had fallen and the only lights shown from the dimly lit lampposts lining the road. With Batman's black car and suit, he looked like a shadow next to the extravagancy of the Joker.

"Let her go," Batman rasped.

"Hm, let me think. No."

Though the streetlights barely lit the actual streets, everything seemed too bright. The purple glove, the scarlet smear, the soft orange glow. The moon.

"I would seriously reconsider moving any farther," The Joker threatened, but he began chuckling so hard afterwards his knife shook.

Batman stopped obediently, a dark hatred in his eyes.

"Now, take off that mask of yours, or little Suzy here?" the Joker nodded towards me.

"Ava," I corrected him meekly.

"Little Ava here might not see high school," he finished smugly.

"I'm going into tenth grade, I started high school last year," I tentatively corrected him yet again.

"Sh sh sh sh shhhh," he caressed my hair with his free hand, forcing a shiver down my spine, "Shhhhhhhh."

He looked back up, but Batman had disappeared completely. My first thought was that he'd given up- left me to the madman's devices.

"Baaaad move," he shook his head, still chuckling, "You reeeally screwed up this time."

I bit my lip, wondering where in hell Batty had gone. He always saved them. Always.

"Y-you don't have to do this," I offered.

"Actually I really do," he licked his lips.

"It was worth a try," I sighed.

The light closest to us blew out with a bang, showering the street with sparks. Then the next. And the next.

"Ha ha! The fun begins!" he crowed.

A _phwish_ sounded above and a two hundred pound mass of vigilante landed on top of us. The knife skittered across the ground, and after a beat I jumped to retrieve it. The Joker saw me going for it and grabbed my leg, wrenching me towards him. Stumbling out from under Batman, the Joker hurdled over me and snatched the knife. He slashed at me savagely, slicing my leg before Batman wrestled him back into his hold.

I scrambled out of the way, clutching at my dripping limb.

"You have no idea," he could barely speak he was laughing so hard, "What you've started. Now she has too die. Nice job Bats, here's one more for the 'ol conscious. How many people have died because of you? Hm? HM?" by that point he could no longer speak, his insane laughter piercing the night like a knife.

"Go home," Batman rumbled, eyeing me sharply. It felt like a mask, trying to hide his concern. His pain.

I nodded abruptly, clambering to my feet. Careful not to put too much weight on my leg, I tore into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

"And them BAM!" I smacked my hands together, startling the group that had amassed around me, "The truck hit us head on!"

The group gasped, waiting with bated breath. The clown prince had made me the playground queen, and the entire freshman class were my people.

"She's lying," a girl, Amanda Creed I believe, folded her arms, "She's just trying to get attention!"

"Yeah," I raised an eyebrow, lifting up my jean leg, "I didn't do _this_ to get attention."

She gaped at the fresh stitches, crouching down to get a better look, "What happened after the truck hit you?" she asked tentatively.

Grinning, I continued my story, "Well, the Joker hopped in, and then-"

It had become an everyday event. I would take a seat on the tube slide to eat my lunch, and suddenly a dozen kids would appear, eager to hear her story yet again. I hadn't even had time to mourn.

The end of period bell rang, signaling a time for departure. Hopping off the slide, I meandered through the last few class periods. The school was built like a prison, just like everything else in Gotham. Its gray walls and tiny windows held no entertainment for an antsy ninth grader.

As soon as the clock struck four I jumped to my feet, bursting outside. Only a few short yards stood between me and the weekend's blessed freedom. Leaping onto my gleaming yellow sanctuary, I watched Gotham High fade into the distance.

"Hey, Ava," a sophomore tapped my shoulder, "It's your boyfriend."

Displayed on one of Downtown's massive flyers, Batman glared. Around his head read the words 'Police Department of Gotham City, Wanted. Anonymous Vigilante. Murder, kidnapping, Aggravated Assault of Peace Officer.'

"Hey man, not cool," I scowled, pulling my backpack to my chest.

"Why don't you tell us about that time the Joker wrecked your car," he frowned, "Oh wait. You already did. Like a hundred and fifty times."

"Just shut up," I sighed turning to the window. He just laughed at my back, pleased with my reaction. Not feeling like dealing with anyone else, I watched the tens of hundreds of other buses filing behind us.

Wait.

I blinked at the bus pulling beside us, mouth agape. Pressing my nose to the window, I stared at my nightmare sitting only a few feet away. Focusing on the road, unlike usual, the Joker calmly drove along with the rest of the herd of buses. He casually glanced to the side, noticing my stare. He blinked once in surprise at the familiar face. The surprise quickly morphed into a grin, and then he had the audacity to wink at me.

"Hey!" I barked, turning back to the jerky sophomore, "Did you see…?"

Looking back, I frowned. Any trace of the villain had disappeared, an elderly woman driving a bus where his had once been. Shaking my head, I sunk deeper into the seat. The stress must be getting to me. Now I'm seeing things.

"Hey mom!" I ran inside, throwing my backpack on the table, "What's going on?"

Silence greeted me. My heart thudded in my chest, as I slowly made my way into the main room. Peeking inside, I let out an enormous breath. Perfectly safe, my mother was on the couch, watching the news.

"Hey, why didn't you-?" she wordlessly pointed at the TV. Stopping mid-sentence, I sat down to join her.

"_The Gotham National was held up today by the criminal known as 'The Joker'. Over 64 million was stole, and it's been said he used a public school bus as his getaway vehicle."_

A school bus. The Joker was driving a school bus.

_"H-he made us hold these- grenades. They held a gun to my head. I was blessed to get out alive. I heard the bank manager wasn't so lucky…_"

"You okay hon?" mom turned around, "You don't look so good."

"It's nothing- it's just- the Joker. Y'know," I waved my hand vaguely.

"Can you get that?" she nodded to the phone, which had begun ringing erratically. Jumping to my feet I snatched at him, eager to catch it before the line went dead.

"Is this Mrs. Scott?" a rough voice asked.

"N-no. This is Ava."

"Oh, Ava," he sighed, "Thank god you're alright. This is Commissioner Gordon. I apologize, but we're going to need to take you into police custody- just for tonight."

"Oh," my eyes widened, "Do you want to talk to my mom?"

"That'd be wonderful."

Handing her the phone, I sat cross legged on the ground, listening to the one way conversation.

"Traces of her DNA? But how would he-"

"Yes, I understand."

"You'll pick her up in half an hour?"

"Yes, I think I know somewhere I can stay."

She hung up the phone, weary eyes falling on me, "Hon, do you remember Dylan Stanler?"

"The dead beat you went on a date with last week?" I raised an eyebrow. She hadn't said much that night, but there was no second date.

"Yeah, that's the one. I'm going to stay with him just for tonight. The Commissioner will be here in twenty minutes. Get dressed, and if you'd like a book or anything, get it now," her voice shook slightly, under her confident façade.

"Yes'm," I sighed, padding back to my bedroom. Throwing on an oversized sweater and skinny jeans, I ran my fingers through my hair. It was going to be a long night.

A knock rapped at the door. I moved to answer it, but my mom held me back, "Wait. Wait for the special knock."

Sure enough, a second later, three strong raps were followed by two short ones. Sighing, my mother answered the door.

"Commissioner," she nodded.

"Mrs. Scott."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, looking deeply into my mother's eyes, "Don't worry," he attempted a smile, "She's in good hands."

Leading me to the police car, he opened the side door, gesturing for me to get in the back.

"What, I can't ride shotgun?" I laughed nervously, "I thought it'd be at least a few years before I sat in the back of one of these."

He just shook his head, revving the engine. Within moments we were zooming down the road.

"This is Detective Wuertz," Gordon broke the silence, gesturing to the man in the passenger's seat.

"I know we're in a hurry," Wuertz selected his words carefully, "But I think even the Commissioner has to obey the speed limit."

"We don't have time," Gordon growled, speeding up if anything. Wuertz looked put off about something, but didn't press the issue.

Within minutes we had pulled up to Gotham City Police Department. He steered me inside, looking around warily, before slamming the door.

"I can't lock the station," Gordon mumbled to me as I was towed along, "In case someone needs help. But I _can_ lock my office."

He pulled me inside, pressing the lock in with a final click. Turning around he stationed a walky-talky on his desk, and collapsed into the office chair.

"So… you play cards?" I tried to break the ice.

"Please," he pressed his fingers to his forehead, "I need to focus."

Lapsing into silence, I took to counting the tiles on the ceiling. From the mahogany desk to stretching bookshelves, they coated everything in a patterned blanket.

_Sixty-four… sixty-five… sixty-six… sixty-seven…_

"_Gordon_!" the walky-talky blared, "_There's an armed man in the Narrows- tripping on PCP. We need you!_"

"Shit!" he cursed, slamming the device down, "Ava," he turned to me, "Listen _very _carefully. I'm going down to the Narrows, and I'm going to lock the door. No matter what you hear- do NOT open it. Do you understand? Not even for me."

I nodded, eyes wide. Taking it as enough he spared one last glance, before dashing into the unknown.

"_Shit- is that a machete?!_"

I looked over, realizing he had left the walky-talky. Brining it over to my corner, I watched the newest source of entertainment.

"_Reinforcements have arrived!_"

"_Get the civilians out of here!_"

"_How did she get through the squad line?!_"

"_MAN DOWN MAN DOWN!_"

Not wanting to hear any more, I turned it off, curling into a ball. According to the wall clock it was 11:54, and I had to fall asleep sometime.

Just as my eyes began to close, someone began knocking frantically at the door. I rose to my feet, placing my hand on the knob. Wait.

Gordon had said not to open it. Retreating back to the corner, I eyed it with a new distrust.

"Oh god, please let me in!" someone rattled the knob, "It's Officer Davies- please!"

The wall of the office that connected to the rest of the station was a window, shielded by a row of shutters. I began to move to peep through them, but hesitated. I was afraid to be seen. I was afraid I wouldn't like what I saw.

"Please, just let me- MOTHER OF GOD!" he screamed.

I bit my pointer finger, afraid I'd start screaming too. Something cracked against the window, and through the cracks in the shutters I could make out a head of short, matted brown hair. Red leaked down the glass as someone rammed the officer's head into the window over and over again. This time I did scream, letting it rip from my throat. The silhouette behind the window paused, giving a facetious wave, before trying at the doorknob himself. After a few unsuccessful tries, he backed off.

Hoping for the best, I was caught off guard when he rammed into the door. I squealed, clapping a hand over my mouth.

When the door didn't move that way either, he withdrew. Fearing the next attack, I crouched behind his desk, peeking out. Trying not to focus on the crimson smears running down the window, I bit my lip in anticipation.

A second passed. Then another. As soon as I began to rise, a spray of bullets beat against the glass. I cried out, hitting the ground as the wave of gunfire struggled to shatter my only source of protection.

Tears began to stream down my cheeks. I was going to die tonight. The thought ran over and over again through my head.

_Or worse._

I shuddered, trying to forget that option.

Footsteps pattered inside, people running. I thought I heard Gordon shout 'hey', and then more gunfire. The original shape, who I assumed was the Joker, ducked down, scrambling away.

"DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!" someone shouted. The pandemonium ended with an enormous crunching noise, and then the sweet sound of Commissioner Gordon's voice.

"Son of a bitch…"

Seconds later the door was being unlocked and Gordon ran inside, kneeling beside me.

"Ava, are you okay Ava?" he gripped my chin, "Ava, look at me," tears still fell freely, staining my blotchy cheeks.

"I… he…" I gulped.

The wall across the station had been completely destroyed, almost as if someone had driven a truck through it.

Exactly as if someone had driven a truck through it.

"Shhh, sh it's okay," he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me in his strong embrace, "You're safe now. It's going to be okay."


End file.
